


i'm hopin' (that my love will keep you up tonight)

by fullsxn



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Absent Parents, Abusive Parents, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Beer, Billy Hargrove Lives, Bisexual Steve Harrington, But they end up ok, Character Study, Cigarettes, Drabble, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Gay Billy Hargrove, I Don't Even Know, I Ship It, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insomnia, Leather Jackets, M/M, Neil Hargrove Being an Asshole, One Shot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad, Short, Short One Shot, Smoking, Sort Of, Sunsets, Swearing, Talking, Timeline What Timeline, Trauma, also they're whipped but don't know it yet, but if i were to make this into a series they'd get together i promise, but only sort of, except the harringrove isn't romantic yet so, jonathan nancy robin and dustin are only mentioned, only for part of it though, the byers never moved away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23812090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullsxn/pseuds/fullsxn
Summary: He wonders what Billy is thinking right now. What he thinks of the scars, jagged and white, crisscrossing Steve’s face. What he thinks of the way Steve’s hands shake as he lifts the cigarette back to his mouth. What he thinks of the dark circles rimming his eyes. What he thinks about Steve. Whether he’s thinking of Steve at all, or whether his mind has drifted elsewhere from the boy who peaked in high school and fell below his own painfully shallow standards.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 2
Kudos: 80





	i'm hopin' (that my love will keep you up tonight)

**Author's Note:**

> short drabble i wrote while procrastinating doing my online schoolwork
> 
> billy's kind of ooc, so just beware of that :)
> 
> title is from how do you sleep by sam smith

Steve’s parents are never around.

It’s a hard, stone-cold fact. There isn’t any debate about it because it’s true, and even Nancy, who seems to find a logical answer for everything, had only given him a grim smile when he’d finally brought it up.

It isn’t his place to complain, though. El was stuck in the lab for years, Will had been thrown into the Upside Down for a week, Nancy lost her best friend to the Demogorgon’s clutches, and Max’s step-father is abusive. And here he is, King Steve, complaining that his parents are never home.

The more he thinks about it, the more pathetic he feels. Maybe if they’d only started leaving for months on end when he was seventeen it wouldn’t hurt so much. But he remembers being ten years old, young and scared and confused, standing in that big house with no one but himself and wondering why his parents didn’t love him. Why they were leaving when he was right here. And he never found an answer, because now he knows there isn’t one. Not one that can make up for all those years of abandonment. 

He tries to keep it on the down-low most of the time. He’s nineteen now, not a child, and he’s legally allowed to be living by himself. Hopper couldn’t do shit about it even if he wanted to. But mostly, it just… isn’t important. Why would his parents’ absence be of anyone’s concern when they were all fearing for their lives? Steve doesn’t know either.

It’s only when Dustin starts coming over more often that the absence of Steve’s parents becomes noticeable. Sometimes he’ll ask about it, but Steve always answers with a half-hearted shrug. Because, really, it isn’t important. And it’ll always be that way.

He’s still scared of going into the backyard. Can’t go out there without seeing Barb sitting on the diving board, without seeing Jonathan hiding in the bushes. It sucks, because that pool used to be his sanctuary—it was where he felt safest. If he was underwater, he wouldn’t be able to hear the deafening silence of an empty house or the sound of a bottle shattering against the wall.

But he now avoids it at all costs. 

He doesn’t even think Nancy knows. He doesn’t think she knows how much Barb’s death affected him, even after all this time—it’s incredible, he thinks, just how much of himself he’s able to suppress when he tries. Sure, Nancy was affected differently, and perhaps more severely—but having someone die in your pool isn’t exactly something you can forget easily. That much he’s sure of.

Every once and awhile, Robin gets curious as to why Steve’s always home alone. Why his parents are never around when clearly, the house doesn’t technically belong to Steve. He’ll make some lame joke about how they just can’t stand to be around him for longer than a few days and Robin will roll her eyes and drop the subject. Perhaps she’s realised just how much he doesn’t want to talk about it by now. He hopes so.

He doesn’t want to think about that night. It’s been two years, he reminds himself, get over it. No one else is still thinking about it. They’re living their lives, getting over their trauma—and here you are, still fazed by your ex-girlfriend’s best friend getting taken to an alternate dimension. 

He remembers wanting Nancy back. Wanting to hold her in his arms again, be able to kiss her and love her and be in the moment with her. But all that has passed. He’s come to realise, after two years of immense guilt and wondering why he was so fucked up, that just as he wasn’t right for Nancy, maybe she wasn’t right for him either. And that’s okay. And it’s not necessarily his fault.

Besides, it’s not like he could do anything about it if he was still in love with her. She’s dating Jonathan, she’s in love with Jonathan—he’s not even in the picture anymore.

He’s sitting on his front porch with a cigarette, closing his eyes and trying to disappear, when Billy fucking Hargrove shows up on his lawn.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, dumbfounded. The whole idea of interacting with the guy who beat his face in a year ago is admittedly not very appealing. 

Billy shrugs. “Needed something to do.”

Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes. “And why was coming here the first thing on your list?”

Billy doesn’t answer, instead slamming his car door shut and joining Steve on the porch, pulling out his own pack of cigarettes and taking a long drag without saying anything.

“Max is over with her dumbass friends, and I was bored. You’re funny when you’re angry, so I came here,” Hargrove explains. 

“Thanks,” Steve responds bitterly, shoving his left hand in his pocket.

“Your parents home?” Billy asks, and Steve feels his chest constrict just at the thought of having to explain that they haven’t been home in eight months.

“No,” he replies shortly. “Business trip.”

Billy shrugs. It seems to be a good enough answer for him.

As the minutes pass in silence, Steve thinks Billy, apart from his somewhat violent tendencies, is actually pretty good company. He doesn’t chasitize him for every little thing he does like Nancy or make him feel like shit for existing like Tommy and Carol. Billy’s different. He’s just the right amount of quiet but his presence is also notable, like Steve will know he’s there without having to see it himself.

He wonders what Billy is thinking right now. What he thinks of the scars, jagged and white, criss-crossing Steve’s face. What he thinks of the way Steve’s hands shake as he lifts the cigarette back to his mouth. What he thinks of the dark circles rimming his eyes. What he thinks about Steve. Whether he’s thinking of Steve at all, or whether his mind has drifted elsewhere from the boy who peaked in high school and fell nothing but below his own painfully shallow standards.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, Pretty Boy?” Billy’s voice rings in Steve’s ears and he whips his head around to face him, startled by the noise. Around here, there isn’t much of it.

“Nothing,” he replies. He can’t find himself able to meet Billy’s eyes, those cold blue irises like ice that just never seems to melt. “You know, you aren’t bad company, Hargrove.”

Billy chuckles. “Those dipshits finally get to you?” he laughs. “I know, they’re fucking loud, believe me. Max has them over every once and a while when Neil’s at work and every single fucking time I want to throw one of my dumbbells at them.”

Despite the obvious slander towards the kids, Steve laughs. He’s surprised at how nice it is to just… feel something. He’s been numb for so long, so accustomed to the feeling like he was drowning, that laughing at a stupid joke Billy Hargrove made seems crazy, and yet it’s the happiest he’s felt in months.

It’s hearty, genuine and straight from the chest. Billy rolls his eyes, but Steve notices the way the corners of his lips seem to tug upwards before he turns his head away.

“You ever felt like everyone hates you?” Billy asks.

Steve feels his heart jump to his throat. “Yeah,” he responds instantly, “all the time.”

Billy gestures with his arm, trying to find the right words to say. “It’s like, they always want you to get your shit together, but once you finally do they think you’re faking.” He lets out an angry sigh. “Pick a fucking side!”

Steve can only nod. “I get that.” He leans against the porch railing and squints at the setting sun in the distance. “It’s part of the reason I don’t like hanging out with Nancy and Jonathan. It’s so painfully obvious they don’t trust me, or think I’m a good person, and I honestly just wish they’d leave me alone.”

“‘Bout time,” Billy says gruffly. Steve doesn’t say anything to that. “But, relationships are built on trust, you know? I don’t know exactly what you and Wheeler had going on, but if she didn’t trust you, it was probably a good thing you guys broke up.”

Steve nods. He’s unsure if Billy saw, but he continues away. “If someone’s, like… genuinely trying to be a good person, and like, change their ways,” Steve starts, not exactly sure where he’s going with this, “even if you don’t forgive them, bringing up their past mistakes isn’t going to do anything but make them feel like shit. You shouldn’t feel obligated to forgive people who wronged you, but the least you can do is let them forgive themselves and move on. Everyone deserves a second chance, y’know?”

Billy nods silently. It’s clear he understands, probably more than anyone, what Steve is getting at. 

He remembers hearing this quote somewhere—he can’t remember where, but he’s sure it’s somewhere credible—an explanation is not an excuse.

It’s stuck with him for a while. Guilt has always been a problem for him, there’s no denying that. And he doesn’t expect anyone to forget the person he used to be, because that wouldn’t be fair, but—he can blame his father’s shitty parenting all he wants, but it won’t make up for what he did. It will explain what he did, but it will not excuse what he did.

“You’ve talked about Neil being an asshole,” Steve says. Billy nods. “This isn’t like, anywhere remotely near what I’m sure you’ve gone through, but my dad isn’t the nicest guy either.”

“Yeah?” Billy asks.

“Yeah,” Steve repeats. “Like I said, it’s not as bad as whatever Neil’s doing, I’m sure, but—he just like, isn’t around much. Even when I was a kid. He and my mom would just fuck around in Europe for five months and leave me alone.”

“Sounds fucking sweet,” Billy says with a laugh.

“Maybe now, I guess,” Steve says, shrugging, “but this is when I was like, ten. A ten-year old alone for five months. My parents would just drop some shit in my bank account every month to let me know they were still alive. That was it.”

Billy is silent, and Steve can tell he’s trying to find the right words to say. Finally, he turns his head. “Got a beer?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies. He quickly goes into the kitchen and comes back out with one for each of them. “Here.”

Billy nods in thanks. “To shitty dads,” he says, and holds up his bottle. Steve clinks it with his own and grins, more widely than he’s done in months.

There’s something about Billy Hargrove, all rough edges and leather jackets, that makes Steve feel at home. Something he never felt with Nancy. And maybe, he realises, as he watches Billy smile at the sunset—this is the life he wants. Not feeling fear bubble in his chest when Nancy walks into the room or guilt seeping into his bones when he sees her with Jonathan, no—something more. 

The two of them are happy. But just because Nancy and Jonathan are happy doesn’t mean he can’t be, and maybe, he thinks, standing on his front porch smoking with Billy Hargrove, that’s the lesson he’s needed to learn the entire damn time.


End file.
